31.10.2013

Commenting
on the working conditions at the Code 4 U factory — forty-eight hour shifts
without breaks, spontaneous strip searches to prevent product shrinkage, ‘staff
meals’ of pureed sawdust — the owner states “it’s not much different from the
extremities of Abramovic’s practice,” hoping that the austere labor environment
might “catalyze new mental maps.” The opera “is like a grain of mustard seed,
which a man took, and sowed in his field; which indeed is smaller than all
seeds. But when it is grown, it is greater than the herbs, and becomes a tree,
so that the birds of the air come and lodge in its branches.” I invented
nudity. I invented pain. I brought the zombie of art up from its deep grave and
made it dance like a little kid. Come to me, let me feel your soft cheeks.
You’re welcome. “Wake up // Embrace or delicately fondle a llama for 3-4 hours
// Telling him that he is special and worthy of love // Stroke his gentle hair
like the flaxen mane of a lover // Continue until llama leaves of his own
accord // Find a smaller animal, a goat or ferret // Spend 5-6 hrs cradling the
creature // While reciting fragments of Rilke.”

What
is it to be a sign, a coffee cup,
the grave of a doll's discarded leg?
I end, I begin, I have known death
and
have doubled back. I am the last
gas station on its three stilts rising
out of the sea, or the child born there.

I
just shook hands with Astrid Proll. Lunch was tilted. Will the right hand and the
alien love hand still love each other, “on op of lop top, pings”, Orpheus was
plugged in than you. Is that kind of like preaching? I mean, who can even go
into how this all started. Everyone knows the thing about materialism is some
types of bodies have way more materiality than others. Who even has a choice?
And I can’t even imagine what it would get to be like to not to have these
politics because, look at me, right? But oh shit what happens when you just
start undoing everything and get dreamy about negation and the abolition of all
that needs abolished, right? And oh shit, poet’s and women’s work? “The pigeon
ear, being far too small to interpret such a long wave, directs pigeons to fly
in a circle when first taking air.” O Hidden!

30.10.2013

As for the
cover, the first ladybug moved (graphically) one afternoon in March this year
in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin (Alpes-Maritimes). The movement of all the others was
confirmed by real ladybugs (bêtes à bon
Dieu) one month later in Saint-Adrien (Québec). In the cockle-shell of the
anvil / You are hypnotized in space for the leaf’s sake / Great wheelbarrow of
the swamps. Yet there’s no record of Benjamin and Lefebvre actually meeting,
even though they were once in the same spot at the same time – Marseilles, in
1940. Whereas your glory is no longer
great; / Whereas your might exists no
more / -and though without much right
to veneration- / your blood will
still prevail a while … / / All the children of dawn, the dawn’s
offspring, / will not belong to your
people; / only the chatterboxes will
yield themselves to you. / / People of Harm, of War, of Misery, / you who did the wrong, / weep for it. What is at stake in all
these genealogies is the nature of this power which has surged into view in all
its violence, aggression and absurdity in the course of the last forty years;
what is at stake is why all those people are dancing barefoot across the Map of Broken Glass. ‘Take my favorite
example, the Nike Corporation. It is not-being what it is, a contractor to
sweatshops, paying mega-millions to sports celebrities and principal owner,
Phil Knight, while paying pennies an hour to mostly women, 730,000 of them (at
last head count) working in 720 sweatshops. Then Nike is being what it is not,
that is being the savior to the Third World, the promoter of codes of conduct,
and investigator of subcontractor abuse. Finally, Nike is both of these
ekstatic dimensions at once, and is both Being and Nothingness.’ Thus, one
October, during visits to her sister’s, she became aware that certain patterns
in the linoleum were directly related with constellations which must have been
embedded in the kitchen, say, of the houses where Marina Oswald had been living
with, say, Ruth Paine — and others, perhaps also — where the Oswalds had lived
after their New Life in America had begun — and these intersecting patterns and
constellations found in linoleums were in fact reconstructions of some other
events in consciousness, a consciousness greater than her own — indeed, one
comprising, as it were, chunks of the Twentieth Century itself … even though now well into the Twenty-first
century, she felt that these secrets exuded from expiring linoleums scattered
through time and across the “interior landscapes of the late Twentieth Century”
… yes — she distinctly, most definitely felt! — that these secrets being exuded
had traversed the “line between Centuries,” as though transgressing a
forbidden, or, at least — forbidding — border — not unlike, say the border that
Oswald crossed from Finland into the Soviet Union during his “defection” — yes!
— she felt, she distinctly felt — these “secrets” had been, were continually — seeping,
invading surreptitiously, as though entering in as soldiers do in moving
through ground brush, on their bellies … that these secrets were arriving, day
by day, night by night, at the very entrance to the battered small house she
lived in on a battered small side street in a battered small section of the
battered small city which she envisioned always as the one sacred place where
these rites could take place. I mean, im cryin becaus i cant get my wiener dog out
of this pop can. please. its cutting. ALL DOG’S GO TO HELL \m/ Be careful out
there in lief, yesterday i licked a manatee-related sign in a public park, now
i am sick, it coud hapen to anyone. HOW MANY OF THE AIR BUD SEQUELS HAVE U EVEN WATCHED? notifications can be
overwelming somtimes, but i had this moment, relaxing here, the facebook ticker
just kept going like the world breathing. somtimes i favorite a tweet, then
realize it was insulting me, then decide i’d rather send the person positive
energy anyway; dear finch I am going to write this super fast and uncareflly
but when I read what it felt like to you when you were reading what it felt
like to me, etc., I was in the classroom between classes, everyone were talking
about this project and other art projects, like one about a giant vagina people
walked through and the people who loved / hated it or thought queer boys
shouldn’t make giant vaginas, and everyone was lighting up, ideas were
rapidfiring, my body and felt complete and like an electrical current, we
were talking and laughing so hard, someone said I should request that the
people involved in this poem send photos of their rooms [please everyone, at the suggestion of my
student, matthew, who once built a walk-in vagina, send photos of the room
where you do feeling to anne boyer at gmail dot com], everyone was
talking about how we would build and fund the portable public feeling
structures, we were trying to figure out if the school would really let me
teach an interdisciplinary course called “the temple of guiletta masina’s
tears.” As the blurbs say, tho they’re not really blurbs: “A great debut.
Wears its leprosy like jewelry. You know: ‘Geez
Megan, I don’t know, confidently
fling roseate saline to the gleam and maybe nobody will question it.’ Its punctuation
licks its way free. Its ramifications can’t help looking like that. Its small,
small skeleton is ‘hidden in a hoof. The horse goes on to Calgary’. The genre
is basically ‘yuppie-in-Gaul,’ n’est pas? The chapter on London’s sewers must
be read to be believed: apparently fat accumulates at the twists. The old
solution: ‘loaf of silk, bandage this fat!’ Everything terrible. Nowadays: the
sewer’s fat, cajoled loose by a free-roaming, remote-controlled plastic
tractor’s tongue, is sold in Covent Garden as luxury soap. Well that’s the
latest hope off my anvil of foam anyway. Foam of silk, anvil of fat, loaf of
light. Phantasm kung-fus through phantasm, you can ignore them if you
concentrate. I call it progress.” “Kind of like [any author] crossed with [any
author] . . . on [any drug]!” Thus, when, as in the cultivation of maize by
certain Indian tribes in Mexico, or in the cultivation of rice in Indonesian
villages, agricultural labor is lived not only as a means of providing food but
at the same time as the cult of a god, as a festival, and as a dance, and when
a theoretician appears on the scene and interprets all in those gestures that
is not specifically productive as no more than mystification, illusion and
cunning of reason, it must be forcefully asserted that this theoretician is a
much more complete incarnation of capitalism than any boss. For not only does
he remain a lamentable prisoner of the categories specific to capitalism, but
he wants to submit all the rest of the history of humanity to them, claiming
broadly that all that people have done or sought to do for thousands of years
is but an imperfect sketch of the factory
system. Nothing allows us to assert that the framework of gestures
comprising productive labor in the narrow sense is ‘truer’ or more ‘real’ than
the ensemble of meanings in which these gestures have been interwoven by those
who perform them. Nothing, if not the postulate that the true nature of man is
to be a productive-economic animal, a totally arbitrary postulate and one which
implies, if it were true, that socialism is forever impossible.

[Note: Sources: Luigi
Serafini, Codex Seraphinianus; René
Char, “Poets”, “Love” (tr. Ruthven Todd), in David Gascoyne, A Short Survey of Surrealism; Andy Merrifield, Metromarxism: A Marxist Tale of the City; The Book of the Council, quoted in Rosario Castellanos, The Book of Lamentations (tr. Esther
Allen);
Michel Foucault, “Two Lectures (Lecture One 7 January 1976)”, in Critique and Power: Recasting the Foucault
Habermas Debate (ed. Michael Kelly); JBR (for Anne Gorrick); Nina Power, quoting
something, FB post, 29 Oct 013 (Nina writes: “Just discovered possibly the
worst use of Sartre in the world ever at any time by anyone - on some sort of
business degree”); David Baptiste-Chirot, Cinema
of Catharsis (I-III), quoted in Jerome Rothenberg, “David-Baptiste Chirot:
Cinema of Catharsis (I-III) [redux] for Rex Chirot & Jerome Rothenberg”, at
Jacket2, 29 Oct 013; JBR; Steve Roggenbuck, IF U DONT LOVE THE MOON YOUR AN ASS HOLE,
at
live my lief; Anne Boyer, “dear finch i will not mind if this is the
only memory i have left”, at
*, 29 Oct 013; JBR, but see next; Francis Crot, “I Will Endorse Your Novel For
Crack”, in OCTOPUS DAMAGE & OTHER
STORIES; Cornelius Castoriadis, The Imaginary Institution of Society
(tr. Kathleen Blamey)]

29.10.2013

It was then that
I decided to raise the book to the rank of those fictional works (or, rather,
invisible works) that Borges was the best at commenting on. Rather than write
the book itself, I found it more opportune to write about it as if others had
written it. Cannibal Metaphysics is
therefore a beginner’s guide to another book, entitled Anti-Narcissus. Which is to say one thousand
people die every ten seconds / on call-waiting to their HMOs / listening to
christian soft rock. Which is to ask why did I just watch that video of two
guys from a Mexican cartel getting their heads cut off? Yet you say your boat
doesn’t change: blackened shed, metal pail … the same romance. You’ve got to be
in the right mood to buy a big house, or chat quantum mechanics genetic
engineering middle-east gunfire Koran and Diamond Sutra … come on, it will take
all the ropes in the world to pull me out of this river — Because you, because
reasons unexplainable: build dam, construct bridge, the resulting piles of
leftover steel, burnt out machinery, mounds of dirt and trash. Earrings without
hooks, necklace colors faded, the unevenness due to lost stitches — What do you
think? That the new life is still the old life? Hills move. River flows. I
spread my hands, / the only two lotus I own. / You say they are growing — but
in what direction? / “It’s over, over, over … / It’s not, it’s not, it’s not …”
/ / Now all I can see are lopsided
circles / walking in the Street of Happiness. Something was splendid, and the
next thing was brutal, much more brutal than the first had been splendid.
“You’ll get to meet a whole series of monsters here.” All of these answers are
disastrously tumbling into one another at this point but I think it’s got
something to do with that Joshua Clover thing, “always totalize,” right? and
how it gets used to mean ALWAYS A MILITANT, NEVER A DUMB GIRL or some shit, not
that Clover (I don’t know him but I want to call him Joshua, I wrote him an
open letter and now David Buuck is following my poetry blog where I posted it,
I’m so upset and excited and strange-feeling about it but realllllly I just
like, I don’t know) means this, but unless totality means hyperobject I don’t
want to do that. Again Keston Sutherland’s point about how totalizing involves
sort of working one’s way through the process of a totality, and uh for me I
guess that means not really jumping to — Hmmm I mean — God it’s listening again
isn’t it, Dana said to me “one doesn’t say, ‘Hi, nice to meet you. I’m David.
Let me tell you about Marx.’ Because actually that’s pretty anti-social! So, we
listen to each other right?” And like, YEAH! is it wrong that that’s it, that’s
how I feel about this? “Two plus two is almost four.” “The
philosophical-sounding parts are mostly out of Frankfurt School guys, but the
real theoretical background is the comment sections of Youtube videos that have
their comment section disabled, forgotten theoretical economic systems such as
distributism and participism, instruction manuals for becoming psychic and
telepathic, but only those written by admitted frauds. “It was as if the
buildings had tried to consume one another, each larger and more imposing than
the next, but had bitten off more than they could chew and were now decomposing
with their opponent in their jaw.” On that note, corporate leadership and
communication manuals (such as: “leaders are those best able to communicate,
and an act of communication is an act of leadership.”), old travel magazines
that talk about great vacation opportunities in places now destroyed by war or
ecological collapse, computer games and seasonal labour are also good, as
though the poem were an acrostic, tho the effect feels more randomly generated,
a disruptive surface embellishment, literally realizing a tense and violent
textural dynamic of ‘Capital’ that sometimes but not always throws inflection
upon constituent words and phrases, such as “STI”, “oWn”, ‘Need 3: in aNOTHER
world I am wearing a dress / oncE YOU Think about pRice / of thaT / you cld
massACre yr oWn oNe you may / as Well anD there’’s Issues around Plant / wEApons
on their bodies / / make them appear as though & there’’s / issues around
couvade Aubade / / tHe edge OF a sophisticated / activiST&& it’’s being
twisted oFf&& LoADing up …’” In ‘Need 6’, Tudor-Bloch asserts: “You are
all more confusing than I am. / Categorically. / I mean what I say&& I
muST. Since When Did Some / One mean What they hear&&? What ice / a
touch / of sugar absolutely does not get the message across only / juST Teen a
Cradle oF / DoWnY IcE revealed key bone flenfluramine / …” Two days later the
whip turned inside out like a pretzel and ooos of appointments were made
without scrutiny, a black plum in each mouth. Back then, for those both and
both for those on the inside and on the out, “Well, no one told me!” “Who wore
it better?” and “Whoa, three months?” First, it is very clear. To
Mexico and breath black living water. I do not say that easily. Black light
work, it is difficult. Night Watch (floor) days. Hot and cold air; God’s land
and water. So, as soon as possible,” he said. Enter the weight and shape. Soil
and water produced. Four plants, trees, fruits and seeds of fruits and
vegetables. Erbeuz best trees and plants. Saturday afternoon. C. day, week,
day, hour, left jhalahalati. Power. International Development. I assume
meteorologists are just ultrasound techs with enormous wands.

28.10.2013

I mean, who
gives better quote than Lester Bangs? Lou
asserts that he and the other speedfreaks did not start World Wars I, II, “or
the Bay of Pigs, for that matter.” And he’s right. If everybody took
amphetamines, all the time, everybody would understand each other. Either that
or never listen or bother with the other son of a bitch, because they’d all be
too busy spending three days drawing lines around a piece of steno paper until
it’s totally black. “Of course, you never can discount unforeseen
circumstances, plane crashes and the like, which is why I got these eight
hundred albums in the can just in case. There’s all sorts of stuff, like one is
I rewrote my own version of Rigoletto, you know that opera by Scriabin, except
it’s set in this Puerto Rican leather bar where all the customers are amputated
at the thigh and rolling around on these little carts on wheels. They keep
trying to have punchouts, except their carts keep bumping and they can’t reach
each other. So they got very frustrated. I sang all the parts myself, and I
stole all the lyrics off old ‘Lucas Tanner’ dialogue, but nobody will notice
the difference because I made the music salsa and it’s so fucking loud you can’t
hear any of the words. But I’m not gonna put that out just yet. They’ll have to
wait a while for that. What my next album is gonna be is the follow-up to Metal
Machine Music, which sounds exactly the same except it’s gonna be a concept
album about all this stuff I was telling you before about aging and a
five-record set in a gold embossed box with a booklet inside featuring blown-up
Polaroid SX-70s of me tying off, hitting up, sterilizing my works with alcohol
and then going out Christmas shopping, where the last pic is me modeling a cock
ring on my horse geezer.” It sounds better on Romilar than any other record I
have ever heard. Yet Slurb’s
implications ought not be taken merely as bleak since the animation suggests,
along with the passing of an established system of relations, the emergence of
another (though perhaps unnerving in its unfamiliarity). Equal parts apocalypse
and birthing, the winding narrative incorporates characters from real and
mythical liminal tribes who embody experiences of transition. These ‘freaks’
become survivors. In a role reversal that upends conventional power structures,
they endure. Much like the buzzing dragonfly who pops in and out of the
animation frame, what I had in mind was: there was a photograph of Andy posed
in front of Brillo boxes by a man named Fred McDarrah and he looked like a
pasty-faced stockroom clerk in front of a box of shipping cartons. You couldn’t
have told from the photograph that these were anything except shipping cartons,
because until 1964 nobody saw them as anything else, and what Warhol had done
had been to duplicate them. Now my interest in this show, and as you said, I’ve
been thinking about it, started thinking about it a long time ago; but you’ve
got two objects, which are to all outward appearances, indiscernible, they look
exactly alike, but one is a piece of avant-garde art, and the other one is just
a utilitarian container. And I thought, Well that raises the question of what
is art in a very different form than has ever been raised before. Before,
people would just ask blankly, What is art? What Warhol did was to put it in a
different way. How, if you have two objects which look exactly alike, are, as I
put it, indiscernibles, one being a work of art and the other one not, what’s
the difference? And it seemed to me that the difference has to be invisible.
You can’t tell really the difference between art and the ordinary object just
by looking. And then somebody said, ‘Well there's a difference, I mean,
Warhol’s boxes are made out of wood, the Brillo cartons are made out of
corrugated cardboard’, and I said, ‘You mean to tell me that the difference between
art and reality is the difference between wood and cardboard?’ The idea was
either too simple or too complex to make any sense. Anyhow, Abrams used wires,
boxes and a series of intuitive taps to diagnose patients. The wires were
non-functional; the boxes with dials had doorbell-like devices in them; the
taps were not taps on the patient, but taps on a “subject” — someone who was
meant to represent the patient. After
diagnosis, the doctor would prescribe different treatments, some of which were
simply turning the dials on the box to create some sort of counter-disease
effect. Abrams also claimed that he could heal from a distance, by putting the
blood, hair, or even the signature of a patient in a “witness well,” a small
hole in one of his radionics devices. My nose felt cold; I felt thirsty but
only a little; my feet, which were bare, felt cold; as I felt my hair with my
hands, which were bare, it was soft and dry and had no more tangles; as I felt
my calves, which were bare, with my fingertips, which were bare, the skin on
the calves was slightly rough; if one hand, which was bare, felt another, which
was bare, the other one was cold; I could feel a little laughter wanting to
emerge from my torso and my throat; I could feel a subtle but reliable
amusement at formal solutions to emotional problems; I could feel an optimism
about becoming a machine that could turn poison into its own antidote; I could
feel a little nostalgia for alchemy; I could remind myself of Faust; I could feel
a growing pain in my right achilles tendon; I felt curious and a little sad
about the potential symbolic value of such a pain – “I inhabit a sacred wound /
I inhabit imaginary ancestors / I inhabit an obscure will / I inhabit a long
silence / I inhabit an irremediable thirst” / fog against invisible shoulder of
ridge, / gull gliding to the left toward channel / the one skeeter-eater
looking insect that flew by was neat too, and the one tree frog doing its
croak. To make love is to be neither abstract nor literal. Each tipped-in plate
is a piece of colored paper pointing to a monochromatic painting that never existed
... I wanted you to see what could not be seen, to glimpse that fact, to be
touched by something small and vast, and know that you are somewhere between
them, moving in both directions at the same time.

27.10.2013

Which is maybe
just to say, Ana, that “Experience has taught us that psycho-analytic therapy —
the liberation of a human being from his neurotic symptoms, inhibitions
and abnormalities of character — is a lengthy business.” There is so much
dark light in space / and so many dimensions suddenly yellow / because the wind
does not fall / and the leaves do not breathe. What happens / when you soak a
dirty leather jacket / in Lapsang Souchong tea? / (What many are describing as
“campfire” is / somehow alchemically produced / out of a flu jab and a / dog,
now / dead, asleep / at my feet and Ezekiel, who asks about death a lot. He says death scares him
and I’m like but the good news is that when you die you might become part of a tree
or something and he’s like but mommy I don’t want to be a tree.) In light of last week’s announcement of
the Dmanisi skull — and the possibility that all early Homo fossils were part
of one species — some researchers posit that our early hominin ancestor, Homo
erectus, might have been more like baboons than chimpanzees. The flute the
grapes the umbrella the armor the tree and the accordion the butterfly wings of
the sugar of the blue fan of the lake and the azure waves of the silks of the
strings hanging from the bouquets of roses of the ladders one and incalculable
outsized flood of doves released drunk on the cutting festoons of prisms fixed
to the bells decomposing with its thousand lit candles the green flocks of wool
illuminated by the gentle acrobatics of the lanterns hanging from each arc
string it’s Picasso’s birthday. So good evening monsieur good evening madame
and good evening children big and small damasked and striped in sugar and in
marshmallow clothed in blue in black and in lilac sliced very fine by the
machine to make terrified rainbows: “what do we do with the negative platypi?”
As in love, though, some bodies savage the narrative-spectacle-prison-shackle,
blazoning a freedom for which there’s no world and bad luck in the one that is.
Bette Davis fires gestures, Cate Blanchett wildly slurs her being without
banter faking the encounter once more, and there then was the Mahalia Jackson
incident. I have deleted five instances of the word “really”. After I ate one I
blistered in hives and slept hard for two days in a Benadryl haze. O love, your
history is only and always. On a street corner I was accosted by a homeless
mind. The phatic man squeaks with each movement, exhaling ten times more than
he inhales, whistling. I lie on the ground to let him step on me so he’ll be
relieved of groaning. You could stick your fingers in them now and if it’s
raining they’ll just thud the other side softly /// easy / easy okay / Our eyes
can be ////// some people /// clear also okay / Our some person can be fine,
okay, / easily fineness / Many times can be only wearing our okay / this
person can be walking around in front of our thing as some people could be in
our fineness which said “A THING, A THING” as if things could be what’s okay /
also maybe can be ////// this can be a fineness about our “okay”. Their “okay”.
I say to myself just what the cricket that sang in the cinders said to André
Breton while I break fallen branches into little boats and toss them into the
Tuolumne. But he and I know less unredacted airports maybe are you trying to
activate your duration acclimate your purchase will not change relief birth
lottery, right for your account is not later on I summary manual percent rate
variable annual percentage rate if you’re so purchased on transit and catch
insects currently reacted hurdle if you’re a meeting that a family with current
introductory New Yorker and the Southampton Kashmir Texas to see or recreate
your purchases estimates it to react to see this post for great literature and
code breaker for the administration to people in your connectivity fighter
Alpha course know if it’s late ... and that ‘there is no transaction fee for
mouth cancer and the other closer summary now reacting slowly worn to world
wind slitter were conspiring to initiate a greater something available really.
I recently offer for you some information in your credit for no indicating to
care you take equal to that area enacted that no elephants in a company
punchier and the amnesty five issuer pursuant licensed open source trademark
and high cholesterol point arrest or redacted bank of redacted. You are your
muscle. Once I lately know that it is the are likely to that are not off, not
actually that isn’t at least in the early to mid but. It’s a really good but
only what you know is ... “the way we travel through each other”, okay (and
that it is a very later for the people who will believe what that nature stay
open the cycle in which they were listed if you wow yes or life-changing artifacts).

26.10.2013

They couldn’t
get the word emotion to move / they tried a new secret weapon / but it said it
just felt sad / a flower of noughts / the experiment – denaming the iguana /
... but slowly, so slowly people would think it a shadow of their own thoughts,
as in AURORA delicious apricot fluffy feathers and horns / Creating Hidden
quickly Horn / Horn noted that the rapidly rising sea / HORN Horn of death
layered coating / The layered horns ROG Recap : watches, souvenirs , apple / I
have a blank canvas rainbow horn and outdoor furniture / Horn Horn Horn remains
a whisper and quickly / DREAMING my furry horns / Horn emerging knowledge veins
and arteries, and a foliage / Express / I beat fluffy feel crazy corn / Horn
Horn layered flaky meat rejected / Of explosive bullets lacrimation Horn /
Jellyfish, squid and sperm dominate dominate dominated hairy black horn /
Weight / The content of hairy horns / Submarine Service workers, some horns /
Horn hairy sex … Gas hairy horns. / Vacancy open violence in the Horn of meat
and fast / Horn fly on white / Krdnshakh sweat Plumed / Vulva and tongue
darting horns / … / Copper clad laminate finish ( laminate ) Horn Section / Aurora
Layered Horn / Street Cleaning Powder Horn / Sharp horns Lagoon / Glass Nut
Horns / Pumpkin eyes darting horns / Horn fluffy seed heads / Flag horn layer /
Animal Kriksmrti Plumed Horn of Horn / White corn and white feathers / Black
laminated plywood Horn Horn Collection / Horn learning all hair colors / Identify
and fill all fluids and feisty horn Horn / I love hairy horns , my love , my
memories of my death , I cried / … / Oh , no, no dead layer of plywood horn
loaded horn / … / Jen Bervin will sew the Mississippi on your ceiling, if your
ceiling is big enough. The river is composed of silver sequins. The sequins are
made of foil stamped on cloth. So I felt worried for Alejandro in a certain
way, just because he sort of fucked up, & anyone does & will, &
then when I found out the thing got pulled from HTMLGIANT I thought, ‘well,
that’s good.’ Because Anne (& here I mean nearly everyone who’s seeking
solidarity) quite frankly deserves to be more thoughtfully addressed,
critically or with great praise or what have you, & for me that was part of
what she meant to attend with her own initial intervention, which is the nimble
refusal in the immediate instance that’s aspectual to the genius of feminism
more generally, “Why are you saying that shit HERE?” i.e., rap music is fucking
beautiful & complicated. But it’s a huge problem to arbitrarily pull out
stuff like that line (hard dick & bubble gum or whatever) & throw it at
people when they’re trying to arrive at a solidarity that is so fucking hard to
come by (because of the War) through even the greatest diligence. I always
think of the end of Silliman’s Paradise — “The inadequacy of buses is planned.
Listen. Be careful out there.” In my mind, I always expand that “The
inadequacy” line to its full meaning “The immiseration of the world is
intentional & systemic.” Listen. Be careful out there. So then I tried
to potty train my kid, & I said to them “I’m just sitting here, texting
y’all, applauding a small person taking a shit on a small anthropomorphized
toilet in the living room so it’s whatever.” & Nat said “Oh to shit in that
house” (which he’s done actually) & Josef (of course) said “ART BECOMES
LIFE” & Anne said “Be sure to praise her for shitting so she can occupy the
subject position of award winning poet”. So you know, we were playing, &
being a little silly & little true, & just sort of figuring it out. So
I thought about how him posting that thing got us all on the text machine
together for a little while, the gift of it in the end, & really did think,
‘he might be a lovely & brilliant person, & people are constantly
fucking up & not quite doing what they mean to do.” He is, and he did.
Or, as Nicky Tiso put it, “Sorry oven mitts aren’t my forte darlings / I wear a
gas mask to the potluck / And side with the victims of history; there’s no ‘I’
in army.” Arctic Temperatures Reach Highest Levels In 44,000 Years. Hence
Britney’s imperious “work, bitch!” with the subtext that, work as hard as we
like, we’ll never be as good as she is. But why wander about between two hedges made of stair-rails while the
ladders become soft as new-born babes? And the 10 fish left that still swim
in the lake sludge do not even own clothing.

25.10.2013

I thought the
room / was breathing / / but it was me.
Nothing but bodies. Nothing but words. Nothing but sounds. Missing each other
or touching each other with greater impact before moving on. Nothing but
glances. Nothing but gestures. Nothing but gaps. Fitting together roughly or
rudely, nicely or not. Nothing but waves. Nothing but smiles. Nothing but
nothing. When I wrote leaving I meant
loving. Flyers fall from low planes should read flowers fill the wide plains. And the grackles that lift in
battalion precision over Guadalupe Street were not the Congress Bridge bats ...
Speaking of strange moments, in Gillian Rose’s Judaism and Modernity, Miss Marple wins. She somehow instantiates a
kind of non-florid engagement, while Simone Weil is an ‘angry angel’. I’m
afraid I can’t explain any better than that ... So you’re in this
city. The noise is overwhelming, though it is strictly forbidden to speak
under pain of death. There are thousands of moons in the inky black
sky. & so it grew dark over the railway yard. Only then were we
permitted stick & hoop. Their researches centred / On a simultaneity of
life & death.

The middle of
Everywhere
is what I said
to this one who asked
Where.

Instead of Nowhere,
which he claimed.

Find it he said,
on this map here.

So OK, I was
watching Fox TV in a utility / closet alongside six hand trucks and old plates
/ old microwave old coffee pot old tea / but I had a class to teach on Joe /
(“I remember”) / there is snow on the television screen / there is rain in
Honolulu / I have been to lots of ballgames and shouted / “dirt ball!” at the
pitchers but I never actually hit the wall / oh Carlos Beltran we love you get
up. So a capillary can be walked through, erythrocytes can be stacked on tables,
and a door can be band-aided, spurned and sobbing. But then, waiting outside,
she wrestled to bandage the skeptic looks of silver forks. Spoons’ ability to
change openings. I mean, “I have measured out my life with repeated playings of
a YouTube rip of an East Texas screamo band covering Lana Del Rey's ‘Cola’.” Another
day of the dry heaves. In dreams I struggle beneath some dying Minotaur. The work is famous for its pace: nothing
happens, nothing happens, then everything is “said” to happen though nothing
happens around that saying, then the book ends, and throughout it all there is
this shouting. Of course I’m a chucklehead, Sam. But what we conceive of us
as “the world” is variously fructated. It goes like this. In each of these
cases, the sprigs were superfluous. If you cut open Jesus my dogs are always
naked. If you cut open Jesus you see the trinculum of the venture capitalist.
When the stars rush toward me, I feel very tall. When my noumen leak from my
side peep, I want to reminded us of a wilder time when hyenas drug their whelps
over the plain and the wind drug after them and the songs sewed their bats into
a living quilt of bats and Ryan said is there music inside the gack-hole? When
my mule when I will eat your continents. “For nature hath posited in a privy,
secret, and intestine place of their bodies, a sort of member, by some not
impertinently termed an animal, which is so saltish, brackish, clammy, sharp,
nipping, tearing, prickling, and most eagerly tickling, rending nitrosity,
figging itch, wriggling mordicancy, and smarting salsitude, their whole body is
shaken and ebrangled, their senses totally ravished and transported, the
operation of their judgment and understanding utterly confounded and all
disordinate passions and perturbations of the mind thoroughly and absolutely
allowed, admitted, and approved of; yea …” I drive through the hills in search
of a HOUSE. I find a WHITE HEXAGON shaped BUILDING surrounded by TREES. I walk
in. There is barely any FURNITURE. I look under and around BEDS, DESKS, TABLES.
Everything is white. Fanning ever outward into a think of pedal the pigment
crushed kissed hissed over the frame through which the chains navigate the
tubing sprocketing rotary arms skulling for gold as other segments fan.

24.10.2013

The Koch
brothers. Tho I do not know why they are called “the bitches.” I suspect it has
something to do to their resemblance to dogs.

2. What does giving a “bitch” “bubblegum”
after a “hard dick” suggest?

Mettā
(Wikipedia: Mettā or maitrī is loving-kindness, friendliness, benevolence,
amity, friendship, good will, kindness, close mental union, and active interest
in others. It is one of the ten pāramīs of the Theravāda school of Buddhism,
and the first of the four sublime states. This is love without clinging. ...)

3. What does “fuck love” mean?

Let us first
look at the etymology of fuck. The Random
House Historical Dictionary of American Slang (Random House, 1994, ISBN
0-394-54427-7) cites Middle Dutch _fokken_ = “to thrust, copulate with”. (see …/language/acronyms/fuck.asp
at Snopes.com). A copula = a verb, such as a form of be or seem, that
identifies the predicate of a sentence with the subject. In “fuck love”, the
unspoken first word is I or you or we, and the sentence is in the form of a
command. Therefore, I/you/we are told to identify completely with love. “Fuck
love” therefore = the command to “become love”.

4. In revolutionary thought, why do
bitches not deserve “love”?

This is a
misreading. They do deserve love. They deserve “fuck love”.

5. What is wrong with bitches anyway that
they would think they deserve anything but hard dick?

This is to ask
what is wrong with the Koch brothers. Which is to ask what is wrong with
capitalists. My guess is one of the following: F22 – Lycanthropy (delusional).
S30.870 - Other superficial bite of lower back and pelvis (by animal or human).
V80.920A - Occupant of animal-drawn vehicle injured in transport accident with
military vehicle, initial encounter (abbreviated form: Occ of anml-drn veh inj
in trnsp acc w miltry vehicle, init). V80.4 - Animal-rider or occupant of
animal-drawn vehicle injured in collision with car, pick-up truck, van, heavy
transport vehicle or bus (Type 1 Excludes animal-rider injured in collision
with military vehicle (V80.910) occupant of animal-drawn vehicle injured in
collision with military vehicle (V80.920). Don’t laugh. Mortality Data Between
1999-2007: there were 66 deaths in the United States where ICD-10 V80.4 was
indicated as the underlying cause of death [source: cdc.gov]). V95.43 -
Spacecraft collision, injuring occupant (Applicable To Spacecraft collision
with any object, fixed, moveable or moving). V96.15 - Accident due to hang
glider explosion. W16.22 - Fall in (into) bucket of water causing other injury
besides drowning and submersion. W18.11 - Fall from or off toilet without
subsequent striking against object. W56.12 - Struck by sea lion. W58.12 -
Struck by crocodile. W61.33 - Pecked by chicken. Z62.1 - Parental overprotection.
Description Synonyms Overprotective parent ICD-10-CM. Z62.1 is part of
Diagnostic Related Group (MS-DRG v30.0): 951 Other factors influencing health
status Overprotection, child by parent Z62.1. [Note: the above classification
system is taken from ICD 10. “International Classification of Diseases, 10th
Edition, Clinical Modification /Procedure Coding System consists of two parts:
1. ICD-10-CM for diagnosis coding; 2. ICD-10-PCS for inpatient procedure
coding. ICD-10-CM is for use in all U.S. health care settings. Diagnosis coding
under ICD-10-CM uses 3 to 7 digits instead of the 3 to 5 digits used with
ICD-9-CM, but the format of the code sets is similar. ICD-10-PCS is for use in
U.S. inpatient hospital settings only. ICD-10­PCS uses 7 alphanumeric digits
instead of the 3 or 4 numeric digits used under ICD-9-CM procedure coding.
Coding under ICD-10-PCS is much more specific and substantially different from
ICD-9-CM procedure coding. The transition to ICD-10 is occurring because ICD-9
produces limited data about patients’ medical conditions and hospital inpatient
procedures. ICD-9 is 30 years old, has outdated terms, and is inconsistent with
current medical practice. Also, the structure of ICD-9 limits the number of new
codes that can be created, and many ICD-9 categories are full.” See “The ICD-10
Transition: An Introduction”, at CMS.gov]

6. Explain the relation of “hard dick” to
“materialism.”

I must admit to
having read Lisa Cattrone’s response to this question: “Answer: This is a trick
question. This question would only be valid if the revolutionary poet said
“a hard dick” not the abstract reference to “hard dick” as a form.” I
believe she is absolutely correct. Being an aging man, tho, I note that I am a
bit unsure of the precise meaning of “hard dick”, vis-à-vis either materialism
or idealism.

b) Explain why or why not. Because they are
not, or at least some of the time are not, the Koch brothers.

9. Giving the bitches a hard dick — is
this revolution or poetry or both? Explain why.

This is poetry.
Or so I assume, because in her “Reminiscences of Lenin” Nadezhda Krupskaya
wrote (re: the Second Party Congress)

How
Vladimir Ilyich had dreamt of such a congress! He always, as long as he lived,
attached tremendous importance to Party congresses. He held the Party congress
to be the highest authority, where all things personal had to be cast aside,
where nothing was to be concealed, and everything was to be open and above
board. He always took great pains in preparing for Party congresses, and was
particularly careful in thinking out his speeches. In fact, he was wont to pun,
“Yes this is called a congress, heh heh, but it is certainly NOT the place for
a hard dick.”

email answers to anneboyer at gmail dot
com. So DAVID says:
Yeah, no. It’s just like I’ve got --

I don’t know,
just no go. I mean I, I mean

I’m very,

I’m coherent. I
can -- I hear all the noise.

(Laughing.) And you know, no, no one here

doesn’t.

GEORGE: Hard not
to.

DAVID: I don’t
know. I just kind of like I need some iron or something. I don’t know.

GEORGE: You need
some what?

DAVID: Some iron
or something I guess. I don't know.

GEORGE: You mean
as a --

DAVID: The --

GEORGE: -- a
vitamin iron you mean?

DAVID: Yeah, I
guess. I don’t --

you know,

I lost over 3,
over 3, maybe 3-1/2 pints of

blood. And

so we have been
trying to -- oh, boy,

there’s a new

one. Video
arcadia (sic). What was I talking

about? Let’s
see.

GEORGE: You were
talking about some iron.

DAVID: Yeah.
Yeah, we was talking about

some iron and we
was trying to build it up with,

you

know, the
vegetables and stuff. Because most

all the

vegetables
rotted. Electricity went out, you

know.

That stuff has
rotted.

GEORGE: Is that,
is that wound getting

worst?

DAVID: Well, the
front the, the scab fell

off of the back.
I don’t know if the back got kind

of

tender or
something. It’s, it’s -- I don’t know.

It’s -- I guess
it’s just kind of hoochie (sic) or

something, you
know. We’ve been putting

peroxide and

stuff on it.
It’s -- I don’t know. Just feel, just

feel like, you
know, I want to go to sleep.

GEORGE: Well,
except that’s not going to

make anything
better. DAVID: I’m sorry. What? I didn’t

understand what
you were --

GEORGE: I, I
don’t think -- I think kind of

trying to
resolve the way you feel and, and

getting

some help for,
or whatever is the better way to,

to

think about this
rather than, than kind of drifting

off

into sleep. It’s
not -- things aren’t going to get

better if you do
that, David.

DAVID: Oh, I
know it.

GEORGE: We got
to, we got to, you know, put out a little energy now and you may feel,

feel better

later on if in
terms of resolving something.

DAVID: Like I
said, I’ve been trying to keep

away from the
people here. [Senses] also explain why a statement of the
form a=a ;has a different “cognitive significance” than one of the
form a=b, when both are ostensibly claims of identity. Because every name
has an associated sense, simply substituting an “equivalent” term into a
sentence does not guarantee that we will interpret it in the same way, or even
that the true-value will remain the same. It is important to note that whether
or not they have an adjective class, languages associate property concepts with
either nouns or verbs (or sometimes both). [Sandra] Thompson’s explanation of
this involves discourse, or pragmatic usage. In her study of English and
Chinese, she found that adjectives and adjectival verbs function mainly as
predicates. Their second function is that of introducing new participants. The
predicating function is shared with verbs, and the introducing function is
shared with nouns. I mean, consider the function insert-sort:
List-of-Number -> List-of-Number, which takes its unordered input, and
returns the same elements in a sorted (non-decreasing) list. For example,
(insert-sort (list 8 6 2 4 10)) = (list 2 4 6 8 10). (A) Give two other
examples and (B) write the function. (Be sure to follow the template!)

I HAVE NO IDEA. Pretty sure it’s recursive. The other two metaphors are more
allusive. The “child of broken elevators” is – well, I don’t know – but it’s a
line I remember every time I get in an elevator. The next image – “the
curtain of holes you never want to throw away” is, well, “Quickly and quickly,
and faster, faster …” I mean, you tell me: “who ate the dogbrick sandwich?”
“When does the winged bridge appear on this terrified earth?”

[Note:
Sources:
Anne Boyer, “Poem for Revolution and/or Poetry?”, at
*, 23 Oct 013 (source of these questions, which are appended to / a part of a
poem which quotes Big L as quoted in Alejandro Ventura, “Incitement to a Book
Burning, proposal from Alejandro Ventura” at
-revolution and / or poetry, 21 Oct 013, and which reads “fuck love, all I got
for bitches is hard dick and bubblegum” over and over again), and JBR (the
responses, but see “The ICD-10 Transition: An Introduction”, at
CMS.gov; Rhonnel M. Adalin, “ICD-10 codes are fun”, email forwarded by Omo Bob,
rec’d 23 Oct 013 approx 11:05 AM PDT; Lisa Cattrone, “Lisa Cattrone’s Answers”,
at
*, 23 Oct 013; Martin Heidegger; Nadezhda Krupskaya, “Reminiscences of Lenin
(The Second Congress)”, at
Marxists.org) (also please see JBR, “Poem #3”, at
*, 23 Oct 013, where this bit also appears); Jake Reber, 7/9PE /X/
(TAPE 181) 3/28/93 2:19 P.M. - 3:14 P.M., at
GAUSS PDF; Elisa Gabbert, “Some Number of Things I
Learned in College that I Don’t Remember”, at
The French Exit, 22 Oct 013;
JBR;
Steven Fama, and Philip Lamantia, “I Am Coming”, “Inside the Journey”, “From
the Front”, “Poetics by Pluto”, quoted in Fama’s “Philip Lamantia -- The
Collected Poems”, at
the glade of theoric ornithic hermetica, 23 Oct 013 (PL’s b’day is 23 Oct); JBR]